


Bully

by dreamofhope



Category: Society of Gentlemen - K. J. Charles
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, First Time, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, Loud Sex, M/M, Older Characters, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofhope/pseuds/dreamofhope
Summary: "Foxy told me, find me a bully to do Mr. Frey as he likes it, someone who won't hurt him."
Relationships: Dominic Frey/Silas Mason
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Bully

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Accal1a](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy your fic! I certainly enjoyed writing it :)

December 23, 1830

Dominic straightens a cock eyed sprig of holly, settling it back in its place amongst the evergreens on the mantel. As he gives it one last satisfied pat Silas bustles through the door. He shuts it firmly behind him.

"My, it's good to be home," he says hanging up his greatcoat. Dominic's grateful to see he's still in possession of the thing and hasn't given it away as is his usual wont.

"I was beginning to worry," Dominic says accepting a buss on the cheek. "Heavens you're cold."

Silas gives Dominic's shoulder a squeeze. "Good thing I have your love to keep me warm."

"That you do, my dear. I just worry when you're out on your own," Dominic teases. He leans closer.

"I say! What's that you're hiding behind your back?"

"What?" Silas says with an air of innocence, shuffling back a few paces. "Can't think what you mean."

Dominic regards Silas with shrewd eyes. "Is that my Christmas gift? May I shake it?"

"You're worse than a child," Silas says, fondly. "I had to stow this at the shop. Left here you would've sniffed it out. You've the instincts of a pointer on the trail of a pheasant. Now," he orders, "you stay right there."

Silas begins stepping backwards, parcel hidden behind him. Dominic considers making a jest about receiving the royal treatment. Instead he warns, "That's a good way to trip over something, my dear. Please allow me to be your guide."

"Not for a kingdom. And I'll be putting _this_ somewhere you can't find."

Dominic doubts it. Their townhouse isn't particularly large, but he supposes he won't have much time to search anyway. They're leaving first thing in the morning to join the other Ricardians for Christmas at Arrandene.

"Silly creature," Dominic mutters fondly as he retrieves their dinner from where it's been keeping warm on the kitchen hearth.

When Silas returns his expression is smug; clearly pleased with himself and his hiding place. He sits down at the table. "I'm famished. What's for dinner?"

Dominic sets the plate down in front of him. "Simple fare, beef stew, fresh bread and an apple tartlet. I wanted Martha and Amy home early to begin their holiday; not here cooking a big meal."

"Aye, I sent young Peter home with a thumping great bag of presents for his mother and uncles."

"I'm glad." Dominic sets his own plate down and pours them both a glass of Moselle.

Silas pats Dominic on the bottom. "I am a fortunate fellow indeed having Lord Dominic serve me himself."

"Far from the first time," Dominic says with a gleam in his eye. The celebration following his elevation to the peerage comes to the forefront of his mind. Not the one attended by his family and friends, but the other more exciting one with Jon and Quex joining in.

Silas grins in understanding before tucking in. He always eats heartily; never forgetting the many years of going hungry.

Dominic settles in his chair. "How was work?"

"Good. Busy," Silas says happily. "Sold out of 'The Wealth of Nations' reprint and young Peter sold 'Gulliver's Travels' all on his own."

"The first edition?" Dominic says in surprise, "Heavens, that's wonderful. Good for him."

Silas grins. "He was fair bursting with pride. And we're going to turn a tidy profit this year. Which," Silas says pointing his fork at Dominic, "should please you both personally and professionally."

"Ah, yes nothing excites me more than the thought of filling the government coffers," Dominic says dryly.

"Careful, those could be seen as seditious sentiments my dear. You could be stripped of that fine title of yours."

"Oh, do be quiet."

Silas laughs then returns to his dinner. After the meal's been cleared away, Silas pours them both a dram of whisky. They settle by the fire in the companionable silence born of living together for many years.

"What are you thinking on, love?" Silas asks with a fond smile. "It's something pleasant judging by the expression on your face."

"The night we first met," Dominic says, smiling softly, "Do you remember?"

"I'm not in my dotage yet," Silas says with a chuckle, "and not likely to ever forget. I'll be one and one hundred and still able to sport a cockstand for memory of it."

Their hands tangle together; Dominic leans over and kisses Silas' knuckles. "You changed my life for the better." 

"Aye, mine as well my dear, though I had no idea of what I was getting myself into."

"You were wonderful. I didn't know what to expect either, I just hoped..."

Dominic hopes the man he's meeting here at Millay's is the answer to his prayers. Though he supposes he ought to be ashamed of praying for such a thing. He follows the dark skinned young woman up the stairs. The young woman leads him down a darkened hallway. She stops at a door, opens it with a key hung from her waist and ushers him inside.

"Thank you, mistress." Dominic hands her few coins which garners him a smile.

"Yes sir, thank you sir,"she bobs her head,"have a good evening."

Dominic looks about the room. There's a bed, a washstand, a little table with an intriguing array of the toys of the house laid out upon it;he's distracted from his perusal by the sound of someone approaching. There's a quick rap on the door followed by the same young woman from before. She moves aside to allow the man with her pass by.

She closes the door behind her and then the man and Dominic are alone.

Dominic straightens up. The man takes in Dominic's appearance. The man's eyes are wary. Dominic is certain his reflect the same.

He's an intimidating brute of a man; dressed in the rough clothing of the working class. Not so different in size from Dominic, but the brute carries himself with the air of a man who's not afraid of a fight. Undoubtedly he's seen plenty. Won most of them, too Dominic would wager. Yet, in his eyes there shines a clear and sharp intelligence.

Dominic realizes he's been staring at the brute as if addlepated. "Good evening," he says quickly in the hopes of garnering a more favorable impression.

The brute simply grunts at him. He surveys the room, eyes resting on the whips and chains laid out. His face darkens.

Dominic's stomach sinks. Maybe the brute finds Dominic's desires as distasteful as Richard does.

“If you want _that_ ,” the brute finally speaks in a delightful cockney rasp, “you can get it from someone else.” 

"That won't be necessary," Dominic hastens to assure him.

That's not strictly the truth, but Dominic's confidence is growing that this man will be able to please him without them. Just the man's own brutish strength and cunning.

The brute continues his examination of the room moving to one corner where a curtain hangs. He undoes the sash to reveal a mirror behind it.

The brute smirks at this and seemingly satisfied with the whole business he stalks toward Dominic.

Dominic takes a step back then another halting as his back meets the wall. He's now hemmed in and finds he quite enjoys the feeling of vulnerability.

"Were you going somewhere, Tory?" the brute asks in a rough voice and Dominic's stomach clenches in delicious fear.

Dominic shakes his head, eyes wide as if afraid, trembling with fear not desire.

The brute gives him a satisfied nod, "I didn't think so."

"Leave me alone," Dominic's voice is high, quavering with fear and completely false.

The brute frowns and draws back in momentary confusion. Then he must read something in Dominic's countenance.

"I won't be leaving you alone," he sneers, "strip."

Dominic feels that familiar reluctance to obey. The part of him that fights against submitting. His mind and desires in conflict, but desire always wins out.

His prick hardens and he finds he's eager to surrender to the brute's demands.

Dominic hastens to obey, struggling with his coat. The fashion for a tight fit that requires a valet's assistance is quite infuriating at the moment.

The brute watches, lips twisted derisively.

And though Dominic welcomes humiliation it's becoming clear he'll never be free of the cursed thing without help.

The brute has clearly come to the same conclusion. "Get that fucking thing off," he growls and practically tears it from Dominic's body.

"Ridiculous shite, a coat like that.” He shakes the garment like a terrier with a rat then tosses it away without care, “ _Gentlemanly_ nonsense that is," the brute snarls, expression disgusted.

He regains his focus, returning his attention to Dominic. "Well go on, Tory, get the rest off," the brute orders, "Hurry up; you won't like it if you make me wait."

Dominic's fairly certain he will so he deliberately slows down. The brute's face darkens. "I told you to hurry."

"I shan't. You can't make me." Dominic lifts his chin in chilly disdain aimed at infuriating the brute. The reaction is everything Dominic was hoping for.

The brute grabs Dominic by the cravat. It tightens around his neck, a pleasurable sensation indeed. Dominic can feel himself flush all over, cock further hardening.

"What'd you say to me?" He says belligerently, "You, milord," the brute sneers, "don't get to tell me no."

The brute abruptly lets go of the cravat. Dominic stumbles and before he can right himself the brute lays his hands on Dominic again. He bullies Dominic into disrobing until Dominic's stripped of every article of clothing sans cravat.

The brute unwinds the cravat until it hangs limply from Dominic's neck. "This, I'll allow you to keep," he says with a smirk.

Dominic now stands before the brute naked and trembling; his prick straining proudly. He dearly hopes the brute is pleased with what he sees. And thus, he's gratified to see the brute's eyes fill with lust.

Suddenly the brute's face clouds over. He says with genuine outrage, "You fooled me into being your valet, Tory."

"It seems you are easily fooled, sir," Dominic taunts with a mocking raise of his eyebrow which is entirely designed to earn swift retaliation.

Dominic is gratified when the brute again grabs him by the cravat

"You bastard," the brute spits out. Then with a jeering smile he says, "Well, turnabout's fair play. Go on, Tory," he sneers releasing Dominic's cravat and giving him a shove, "Play my valet and do it right or you won't get nothing more from me tonight."

The thought of such a man requiring a valet is laughable. The request is calculated for Dominic's humiliation and he fully approves.

Dominic moves to stand behind the brute and carefully removes his coat. The material is coarse and cheap, nothing fashionable about it. Any real valet would turn up his nose at it.

"Take care this coat was a present from the Prince Regent himself," he says with a sarcastic laugh. And per his request Dominic carefully lays the garment over the chair.

Dominic removes the brute's shirt folding it neatly and frowning at the scars on his back. Dominic's eyes widen in shock. The brute's been whipped and badly by the looks of it. Dominic can understand his dislike of the whips.

Dominic's fingers skim over the ridged flesh delicately and the brute shakes him off with a gruff, "Get off." Dominic returns to his work.

He falls to his knees at the brute's feet as bare as the day he was born. Dominic removes the brute's shoes and stockings with all the aplomb of a true valet. He continues on with the pantaloons until all that's left are the brute's undergarments. As the brute steps out of his drawers his prick and bollocks give a delectable little bounce.

Dominic can't look away from the hard cock jutting forth from between the brute's thighs. Powerful thighs thick with muscle and covered with alluring dark hair. His eyes rise to the brute's broad chest and shoulders.

Dominic's mouth waters.

The brute catches his eye and gives Dominic a knowing look. "See anything you like?"

"I most certainly do not," Dominic denies with a disdainful shake of his head.

"Well, that's neither here nor there. On the bed with you now," the brute orders imperiously.

Dominic replies defiantly, “I shan't!"

The brute glares. "I said now!" he practically shouts as he grabs Dominic by the arm and pulls him to his feet.

"Move it," he barks out as he drags Dominic towards the bed.

"No!" Dominic makes a valiant attempt to break free in the hopes of earning further punishment.

The brute's jaw squares. "That’s it you!" he swings Dominic around and plants him face down in the mattress knocking his legs apart. Before Dominic can attempt another false bid for freedom the brute climbs atop him. The brute straddles Dominic's hips pinning Dominic down on the bed.

"Be damned to you!" Dominic struggles harder yet that gains him nothing. He is well and truly dominated and nothing could satisfy him more. Dominic's heart beats faster at the feel of the brute's hard prick pressing insistently against the cleft of his arse. The brute shifts and leans over to grab a bottle of oil from the bedside table. Once he's coated his fingers he opens Dominic up roughly.

Dominic protests mightily the entire time. It isn't easy to keep up the game as he is almost breathless with how much he wants this.

It staggers Dominic that somehow this brute knows how to give him exactly what he needs without Dominic having to ask or explain.

The brute's fingers press deeper inside, he growls, "This is mine to use as I see fit."

"No," Dominic protests and receives a slap on the arse for his trouble. "Curse you," he bites out around a smile.

The brute, now seemingly satisfied Dominic's prepared, bullies him onto his hands and knees smacking Dominic's legs wider apart. The brute positions himself behind Dominic and though Dominic cannot see he imagines him holding the base of his prick readying himself to take Dominic.

The brute breaches Dominic with his thick cock, relentlessly, granting no mercy. Dominic revels in the delicious burn of the brute's invasion; a frisson of pleasure runs down his spine. The brute's hands are on Dominic's hips, fingers biting in punishingly. Dominic knows there will be bruises to cherish on the morrow.

Once he's fully seated the brute gives a pleased grunt of approval. "Lovely tight arsehole," he says and Dominic flushes as if praised.

"Won't be so tight once I'm through," the brute says with a harsh laugh and he begins to move. His hands remain on Dominic's hips holding him in place to better serve his own brutish pleasure with little regard for Dominic's own.

The brute's bollocks slap against Dominic's arse in time with his thrusts. He punches gasps of pleasure from Dominic as he groans his own honest pleasure.

The wooden bed shudders and hits the wall with a very satisfying thud. There's a shout of protest from the next room. Dominic flushes with delighted shame that these other men can hear his degradation.

"Oi! Shut your gob or I'll come round and give you a good drubbing!" the brute shouts and it's a fearsome sound.

Dominic has no doubt the brute would and could make good on his threat. The occupants of the other room must feel the same for there are no further complaints.

The brute wraps his hand around Dominic's cravat and yanks on it hard wrenching Dominic's head back. Then leaning forward the brute bites Dominic hard on the neck. Dominic emits a squeal of surprise that quickly turns into a long lusty moan. The brute laughs low and pleased.

Then he mutters insults, curses and filth into Dominic's willing, _no_ grateful ears.

The brute offers no gentleness; exactly what Dominic's after. Dominic's never been handled so masterfully. His body sings and thrills to be used so. No back alley encounter, no bully he's ever fucked has taken him so thoroughly. This is exactly what Dominic's hungered for all this long, lonely time.

The cares and worries of work and everyday life begin to slip away. The brute takes over completely and Dominic's mind clears. There's no thinking; he's no longer in charge. Even though Dominic's prick lies heavy between his thighs, desperate for relief, yet he dares not be so bold as to take it.

The brute digs a hand into Dominic’s curls tugging viciously and the pain is a welcome distraction. “A fancy gentleman such as yourself spreading for the likes of me. Ain’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“Yes,” Dominic readily admits and the brute laughs harshly.

The brute's hips begin to stutter, his thrusts become rougher and with one last jab he shouts his release. He falls forward draped over Dominic's back sweaty and sated.

"Aye Tory you're a fine ride," he growls in Dominic's ear before pulling out. The brute collapses onto the bed, breathing hard.

Dominic lies down beside the brute. He stays silent though he's very close to begging for relief.

The brute looks down at his hand as if seeing it for the first time; his lip curls with disgust. "Don't like that shite you put in your hair," he grumbles wiping it off on the sheet.

He glances over at Dominic. "What? Didn't you spend?" The brute's expression turns to dismay. Dominic can clearly see the growing chagrin of being thought a selfish bed partner. "Christ, I thought you would've known..."

Any show of finer feeling must be avoided at all costs.

Dominic interrupts, smiling coyly, "You didn't instruct me to do so."

"Too right I didn't. You'll spend when I say.” The brute regards Dominic appraisingly. "Gawd, what a strumpet you are," he says pinching the head of Dominic's cock just hard enough to make him gasp.

"I ought to put you out on the street corner next to the other light skirts. Sell you for tuppenny. You'd like that wouldn't you, Tory?"

"No, please, no," Dominic protests in a high breathy voice barely able to contain his excitement at the very idea.

The brute nods in understanding. "Aye, well I don't give a damn for your fine sensibilities. I reckon there's some raw recruits who'd pay me for a chance at you."

Dominic quivers, his breathing harshens.

Dominic dearly wishes he could play coy and reluctant a little longer, but his need is too great. He scrambles to his feet, eager to do as commanded.

The brute makes himself comfortable, leaning back against the headboard. "Go ahead, Tory. Stand up against the wall; show me your wares. Hand on your cock. Aye like so, let me see him, he's an eager fellow, ain't he?"

Dominic preens under the brute's heavy stare; he craves this man's approval. He aches with how much he wants it.

"Now work yourself,” the brute orders.

Dominic complies, hand on his prick as the brute directs his every movement. A string of filth falls from his low born tormenter's lips as Dominic does the bidding of a man so far beneath him. The brute knows exactly how to elicit Dominic's shame filled responses and with a high desperate moan Dominic comes perhaps as hard as he ever has before.

The brute gives an appreciative whistle followed by a rueful, "Were I a younger man I'd have you again, Tory."

While the brute hops off the bed and walks over to the wash stand Dominic surreptitiously wipes his hand on the sheets. The brute holds up the cloth with an inquiring raise of one eyebrow. Dominic shakes his head. "Suit yourself then," he says with a shrug and tosses it to one side.

The brute regards him silently and Dominic is reluctant to dress as long as he has the brute's attention.

"You're a sight," the brute snorts with the first true glimmer of humor in those mysterious muddy colored eyes.

Dominic takes in the sight of himself in the mirror. His hair is a riot of untamed curls. His throat is raw and chafed, a bite mark graces one side; his once pristine cravat hangs nearly in tatters from his neck. Bruises are beginning to blossom; they cover his body most notably his hips. Every inch of him, inside and out, marked by this man.

"Aye you're a mite different than when you started the evening, Tory." The brute notes with the demeanor of a man who finds satisfaction in a job well done.

They gaze at each other a bit awkwardly. The brute shifts from foot to foot and with a rough sigh declares, "Well then, I'm off."

"Good evening and thank you," Dominic says with utmost sincerity.

The brute nods and with that he's out the door.

Dominic spares a moment to wonder about the brute's occupation and living conditions. If they might share any common interests; he shrugs it off as absurd.

Dominic falls down onto the bed smile widening as he contemplates the sheets. The thought of the state of them being remarked upon by the washerwomen fills him with delicious shame.

Dominic turns toward the mirror once more; he hardly recognizes himself. In the glass he sees a man with a huge smile, carefree and hopeful.

He's never had his desires met so thoroughly; with the danger he craves, but with a firm feeling that he's safe in the brute's hands.

The brute has given him quite a gift and for the first time in ages, as strange as it may sound, Dominic feels close to whole. That there's someone who maybe understands him at least a little. And...

"...suddenly I didn't feel as wrong and peculiar as I had before.

"You were never wrong; a bit peculiar yes,” Silas says stroking Dominic’s cheek, “my kind of peculiar as it turned out. And after that fine tale the urge to recreate our fateful first meeting has come upon me.”

Dominic gives him a wicked smile. "I confess that was my intent."

They both rise to their feet.

"Ah, Tory, I'd pick you up and carry you to bed, but I fear for my back.”

“Is that comment directed toward my belly?” Dominic asks in pretend outrage.

“No, that comment refers solely to that nasty pile of books that fell on me last week. As well you know; you fussed over me like a mother hen for days. Besides I like your belly.”

Dominic holds out his hand. “Then shall we repair to our bedroom?”

“I’ve of a mind to chase you to bed. I'll even grant you a head start.” Silas smacks Dominic on the arse. "Go on, run!”

Dominic lets out an unmanly shriek of laughter and takes off.

**Author's Note:**

> One line of dialogue taken from A Seditious Affair.


End file.
